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monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2004 12:06 am)
sweetzattack.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2004 12:06 am)Title: Leaving Strathconon
Series: Precious Years 5/10
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sweetzattack
Pairings: DM/BB, DM/EW in series, DM/BB in chapter
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Character death in series
Summary: Even the deepest love of all sometimes turns out to be a troublesome thing...
Disclaimer: I own them and I cut this out of some newspaper I bought from a bavarian donkey 2346 years ago on Mars. *rolleyes* It's a LIE. Made UP. Wish I owned them nevertheless, so lemme dream ;o)
All titles and lyrics in this series taken from the wonderful Runrig.
x-posted to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fellow_shippers and my own journal
“What the fuck...?!”
I hadn’t been able to sleep for hours, it had been a long time that I had just stared at the ceiling, listening to your calm breathing and huffled mumbling in your dreams until finally a peacefull forgetting caught me.
And now I was woken by something cold hitting me straight in the face.
Something cold and...wet.
I looked up, lids still heavy with sleep, having the feeling that I hadn’t slept at all and there you were, grinning like an idiot, wearing your thickest winterclothes and holding another bullet up. “We’re snowed in!”
“Whaaa...?” SQUISH! Your next snowball hit my right ear, leaving it pulsing and hurting.
“Billy, for the sake of peace...STOP IT!”
You just chuckled and jumped around.
“Bills, it’s fuckin’ APRIL, how the heck can we be snowed in?”
“These are the highlands, Sblomie, everything’s possible here!”
I sighed when you ran out the front door again, letting an icy wind in. Tiny snowflakes found their way right to the fire and melted with a nasty sound. I had to force myself to get up, falling asleep again seemed to be the most impossible thing on earth, even meeting an 8’9’’ purple Hobbit with a donkey’s ears was more likely.
I dressed, grabbed my scarf and went out. The cold almost made my lungs burst and the brightness of the snow blinded me for a second, otherways I might have seen the third snowball flying into my direction. This time, it went right down my shirt. “Ooooh, fuck, BILLY!”
I hated snow. At least that kind of snow that came when you least needed it. And right now, I wanted to go home, lock myself anywhere and think about our relationship.
“Isn’t this wonderful? No getting outta here for at least three more days! Just you and me...and our lovely little home here!”
You were so cute, wearing your woolen cap, face flushed from the cold, I just couldn’t force myself to be angry any longer.
So I just formed a snowball myself and threw it into your general direction.
We ended up fighting in the snow, getting all wet, just to find ourselves naked in front of the fire getting sticky in addition.
The snow didn’t melt within the next three days. In fact, it didn’t melt at all. The third morning, we couldn’t even open the door anymore, it was frozen shut and I had to get some new wood for the fire by climbing out a window and fighting my way through the white mess that almost reached up to my hip.
It was quite a welcoming trip, getting away from you for a few minutes. Every time I saw you staring out into the white landscape, I realized a look in your eyes, so full of love I couldn’t even find words to describe it.
And this look wasn’t meant for me, it was meant for Scotland. My insecurity grew with every minute that passed, but you didn’t seem to notice.
When I got back, big pieces of snow sticking to my clothes, you smiled at me, eyes all shiny and bright.
“I’m gonna cook some beans over the fire!”
Ooooh, wonderful. Beans. Over the fire. G-r-e-a-t. What a surprise, after we had them for the last two days after electricity went God-knows-where and we ran out of everything else but...bloody BEANS.
My face must have shown my thoughts, because you came over and slid your arms round my waist.
“Beans are fine, don’t you think?” You gave me your best hurt-puppy-impression but right then, I couldn’t stand this anymore.
“I don’t want fuckin’ beans! Escpecially not if they are cooked like THIS! I wanna get the hell outta here!”
You immediately backed away and looked at me with eyes so very hurt it would’ve killed me...if I had not been so annoyed.
“I don’t wanna stay in this fuckin’ hut, these boring highlands or even this God-damn COUNTRY anymore, do-you-understand-what-I’m-saying?!”
While speaking the last words, I grabbed your shoulders and shaked you. Hard. But you didn’t complain. You just patiently waited until I let you go before straightening your clothes and replying: “Oh, Dommie...just wait until we’re able to get outta here...I know you need your freedom and being locked anywhere makes you all nervous, but once we’re back in Glasgow...”
”I’m NOT going back to Glasgow! I HATE Scotland!”
And I really did. Not because it wasn’t lovable, no, but it was stealing your love from me. Yes, I was jealous...and seeing you defend your country against me in the next second, against ME whom you should love more than anything, just like I hat put you above everything else in my life, made it even worse.
“So ye hate Scotland, ya?! Ye HATE Scotland?”
For a second I was afraid you might smash my nose, thinking about how much more experienced you were when it came to martial arts but then my anger came back, stronger than ever.
“Yeeees, I hate Scotland! I hate the people, I hate the landscape, I hate that ridiculous flag and most of all I hate...” I paused, then stared at my feet.
“...most of all you hate what?”
There you were again, so close, smelling of snow and Scotland and looking at me with such a furiosity when you harshly took my chin in your hand and slammed my head back up so I had to face you. Now I was sure, you *did* love your country more than me and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I wanted to say “And most of all, I hate YOU for loving it more than me!”, but all that came out of my mouth was “And most of all, I hate YOU!”
You froze, shot me one last glance and turned around quickly. “Okay...I see.”
With this you went out into the snow and I was off to bed.
I didn’t hear you come back that night but when I woke, I found the bed beside me empty.
Yesterday’s events came rolling back to me, I looked up and there you were, standing in the doorway.
“Get up, Dominic, Margaret sent us a helicopter when she started to get worried. It’s waiting outside, you’d better hurry.” You turned and wanted to leave but I was up and got hold of your arm.
“Billy, please, I’m...” I really wanted to apologize, but you pulled your arm away and were off.
I felt tears forming in my eyes, but as soon as I stepped out of the hut and saw you standing there, gently touching the frozen walls with your fingertips, I felt all this hate boiling in my heart again. Without a word I got into the helicopter, you followed a minute later and we flew back to Glasgow in a silence that was even colder than the snow-covered highlands spread out beneath us.
“I called my agent, I’m moving to LA. More chances there.”
I was throwing my clothes into a suitcase, not even bothering to fold them. “My flight’s tonight.”
You were standing behind me, arms crossed in front of your chest. “Okay. Have a nice trip.”
The next thing I heard was my door being shut softly. You didn’t even slam the doors. Five days since we got back, five days in which we stopped making love, stopped kissing...yes, even stopped talking.
For the very first time since I moved in with you, we slept in separate rooms.
I wanted to ask you for a ride to the airport and apologize there, but when I came into the livingroom, dropping my suitcases on the floor, you stood there, eyes so cold they looked almost silvery.
“I called you a taxi. It’s gonna be here any minute. To get you out of this oh, so hated place.” You grabbed your keys and your jacket and left.
Two hours later, I was sitting at the airport, waiting for my flight to be called. When we finally were allowed on board, I sighed, picked up my bag and got onto the plane.
It gained speed and soon took off. From my windowseat I could clearly see the houses of Glasgow, looking friendly and cozy in the bright light of the springsun and far away in the distance I thought I could make out the still snow covered hills of the highlands.For a second I thought I saw a very distant and tiny brown spot that I believed to be our hut, but this might very easily have been a trick my eyes were playing me through the tears that were glittering in them.
The most important thing I didn’t see. I didn’t see you standing at the airport’s panoramawindow, little hands pressed against the cold glass, staring up at the sparkling dot that was my plane, while tears were streaming down your cheeks.
Series: Precious Years 5/10
Author:
sweetzattackPairings: DM/BB, DM/EW in series, DM/BB in chapter
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Character death in series
Summary: Even the deepest love of all sometimes turns out to be a troublesome thing...
Disclaimer: I own them and I cut this out of some newspaper I bought from a bavarian donkey 2346 years ago on Mars. *rolleyes* It's a LIE. Made UP. Wish I owned them nevertheless, so lemme dream ;o)
All titles and lyrics in this series taken from the wonderful Runrig.
x-posted to:
fellow_shippers and my own journal“What the fuck...?!”
I hadn’t been able to sleep for hours, it had been a long time that I had just stared at the ceiling, listening to your calm breathing and huffled mumbling in your dreams until finally a peacefull forgetting caught me.
And now I was woken by something cold hitting me straight in the face.
Something cold and...wet.
I looked up, lids still heavy with sleep, having the feeling that I hadn’t slept at all and there you were, grinning like an idiot, wearing your thickest winterclothes and holding another bullet up. “We’re snowed in!”
“Whaaa...?” SQUISH! Your next snowball hit my right ear, leaving it pulsing and hurting.
“Billy, for the sake of peace...STOP IT!”
You just chuckled and jumped around.
“Bills, it’s fuckin’ APRIL, how the heck can we be snowed in?”
“These are the highlands, Sblomie, everything’s possible here!”
I sighed when you ran out the front door again, letting an icy wind in. Tiny snowflakes found their way right to the fire and melted with a nasty sound. I had to force myself to get up, falling asleep again seemed to be the most impossible thing on earth, even meeting an 8’9’’ purple Hobbit with a donkey’s ears was more likely.
I dressed, grabbed my scarf and went out. The cold almost made my lungs burst and the brightness of the snow blinded me for a second, otherways I might have seen the third snowball flying into my direction. This time, it went right down my shirt. “Ooooh, fuck, BILLY!”
I hated snow. At least that kind of snow that came when you least needed it. And right now, I wanted to go home, lock myself anywhere and think about our relationship.
“Isn’t this wonderful? No getting outta here for at least three more days! Just you and me...and our lovely little home here!”
You were so cute, wearing your woolen cap, face flushed from the cold, I just couldn’t force myself to be angry any longer.
So I just formed a snowball myself and threw it into your general direction.
We ended up fighting in the snow, getting all wet, just to find ourselves naked in front of the fire getting sticky in addition.
The snow didn’t melt within the next three days. In fact, it didn’t melt at all. The third morning, we couldn’t even open the door anymore, it was frozen shut and I had to get some new wood for the fire by climbing out a window and fighting my way through the white mess that almost reached up to my hip.
It was quite a welcoming trip, getting away from you for a few minutes. Every time I saw you staring out into the white landscape, I realized a look in your eyes, so full of love I couldn’t even find words to describe it.
And this look wasn’t meant for me, it was meant for Scotland. My insecurity grew with every minute that passed, but you didn’t seem to notice.
When I got back, big pieces of snow sticking to my clothes, you smiled at me, eyes all shiny and bright.
“I’m gonna cook some beans over the fire!”
Ooooh, wonderful. Beans. Over the fire. G-r-e-a-t. What a surprise, after we had them for the last two days after electricity went God-knows-where and we ran out of everything else but...bloody BEANS.
My face must have shown my thoughts, because you came over and slid your arms round my waist.
“Beans are fine, don’t you think?” You gave me your best hurt-puppy-impression but right then, I couldn’t stand this anymore.
“I don’t want fuckin’ beans! Escpecially not if they are cooked like THIS! I wanna get the hell outta here!”
You immediately backed away and looked at me with eyes so very hurt it would’ve killed me...if I had not been so annoyed.
“I don’t wanna stay in this fuckin’ hut, these boring highlands or even this God-damn COUNTRY anymore, do-you-understand-what-I’m-saying?!”
While speaking the last words, I grabbed your shoulders and shaked you. Hard. But you didn’t complain. You just patiently waited until I let you go before straightening your clothes and replying: “Oh, Dommie...just wait until we’re able to get outta here...I know you need your freedom and being locked anywhere makes you all nervous, but once we’re back in Glasgow...”
”I’m NOT going back to Glasgow! I HATE Scotland!”
And I really did. Not because it wasn’t lovable, no, but it was stealing your love from me. Yes, I was jealous...and seeing you defend your country against me in the next second, against ME whom you should love more than anything, just like I hat put you above everything else in my life, made it even worse.
“So ye hate Scotland, ya?! Ye HATE Scotland?”
For a second I was afraid you might smash my nose, thinking about how much more experienced you were when it came to martial arts but then my anger came back, stronger than ever.
“Yeeees, I hate Scotland! I hate the people, I hate the landscape, I hate that ridiculous flag and most of all I hate...” I paused, then stared at my feet.
“...most of all you hate what?”
There you were again, so close, smelling of snow and Scotland and looking at me with such a furiosity when you harshly took my chin in your hand and slammed my head back up so I had to face you. Now I was sure, you *did* love your country more than me and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I wanted to say “And most of all, I hate YOU for loving it more than me!”, but all that came out of my mouth was “And most of all, I hate YOU!”
You froze, shot me one last glance and turned around quickly. “Okay...I see.”
With this you went out into the snow and I was off to bed.
I didn’t hear you come back that night but when I woke, I found the bed beside me empty.
Yesterday’s events came rolling back to me, I looked up and there you were, standing in the doorway.
“Get up, Dominic, Margaret sent us a helicopter when she started to get worried. It’s waiting outside, you’d better hurry.” You turned and wanted to leave but I was up and got hold of your arm.
“Billy, please, I’m...” I really wanted to apologize, but you pulled your arm away and were off.
I felt tears forming in my eyes, but as soon as I stepped out of the hut and saw you standing there, gently touching the frozen walls with your fingertips, I felt all this hate boiling in my heart again. Without a word I got into the helicopter, you followed a minute later and we flew back to Glasgow in a silence that was even colder than the snow-covered highlands spread out beneath us.
“I called my agent, I’m moving to LA. More chances there.”
I was throwing my clothes into a suitcase, not even bothering to fold them. “My flight’s tonight.”
You were standing behind me, arms crossed in front of your chest. “Okay. Have a nice trip.”
The next thing I heard was my door being shut softly. You didn’t even slam the doors. Five days since we got back, five days in which we stopped making love, stopped kissing...yes, even stopped talking.
For the very first time since I moved in with you, we slept in separate rooms.
I wanted to ask you for a ride to the airport and apologize there, but when I came into the livingroom, dropping my suitcases on the floor, you stood there, eyes so cold they looked almost silvery.
“I called you a taxi. It’s gonna be here any minute. To get you out of this oh, so hated place.” You grabbed your keys and your jacket and left.
Two hours later, I was sitting at the airport, waiting for my flight to be called. When we finally were allowed on board, I sighed, picked up my bag and got onto the plane.
It gained speed and soon took off. From my windowseat I could clearly see the houses of Glasgow, looking friendly and cozy in the bright light of the springsun and far away in the distance I thought I could make out the still snow covered hills of the highlands.For a second I thought I saw a very distant and tiny brown spot that I believed to be our hut, but this might very easily have been a trick my eyes were playing me through the tears that were glittering in them.
The most important thing I didn’t see. I didn’t see you standing at the airport’s panoramawindow, little hands pressed against the cold glass, staring up at the sparkling dot that was my plane, while tears were streaming down your cheeks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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*stares*
*blinks some more*
Dom...How could...But it...But you...But...
*smacks Dom* Geeze, Monaghan, you have this amazing, snowed in, let's-repopulate-the-world-because-everyone's-dead game to play, and you up and tell Billy that you hate Scotland? That you hate him??? That...
Okay. I'm getting mad because of a fic. I'm just very, very upset, and really, really need to read more of it to see what happens. I'm fine. Really. *takes deep breaths*
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:(
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Actually I wanted to take a break from posting right now but...I thiiiink I might give you some more parts of this quite soon ;o)
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Do me a favor: Save up all your tears, you might need them some day...*huggles*
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Poor Billy! He loves his home soooooooooo much!
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